The Obsidian's Judgment
In the private office of the Sigmund family patriarch, who had traveled from the capital to observe the proceedings, a man stood shrouded in deep shadow. His name was Cairo Sigmund. Head of the Sigmund County and master of the demonic sword Obsidian.
He turned slowly, his voice cold and devoid of warmth. “You have sullied the family name.”
The word carried the weight of contempt. It was directed at his own son, Max. After suffering such a humiliating defeat while wielding Obsidian, Max no longer deserved to be called a son of Sigmund.
“B-but during Monday’s practical session, I definitely—urgh!?”
Max, still on his knees and attempting to offer excuses, suddenly let out a groan as an incomprehensible force crushed down on him. The source was the dark mana radiating from Obsidian itself.
“If you truly are my son, prove it. If you can wield the demonic sword, you should be able to control this power.”
Cairo extended his hand. Like iron drawn to a magnet, Obsidian flew from beside Max and into his grasp. He leveled the blade’s tip at his son and poured even more crushing force into the dark mana.
“Krrgh! Gah—!”
Max’s veins bulged grotesquely across his skin. His eyes began to bleed red. The demonic sword’s power pressed against his face with enough force to shatter it.
“Control this blade if you wish to survive. If not, you die here today.”
Even as his son writhed in agony, Cairo’s expression remained utterly blank. He continued feeding power into the sword without hesitation. It was clear that if he did not stop, Max’s skull would burst like an overripe fruit.
He’s really going to kill me. He actually means it…!
Raw, primal terror flooded Max’s mind—the fear prey feels when staring into a predator’s jaws. In that desperate moment, he squeezed out every ounce of strength he possessed, fighting to dominate Obsidian the way a cornered animal flees for its life. With the resolve of a man staking his entire existence, he unleashed the Sigmund Family Sword Arts he had been brutally trained in since childhood.
-Vwoooong! Vwoooooong! Vwoong!
The two opposing forces collided violently. One sought to crush Max’s face, the other fought desperately to break free. Obsidian began to tremble violently in Cairo’s grip.
But it lasted only a moment.
“Hmph. As expected, you are not my son. This is the extent of your ability.”
Cairo’s eyes widened. Like a taut string snapping, the delicate balance between the two forces shattered in an instant. Max’s control had been completely overwhelmed.
“GYAAAAAAAAGH! GRAAAAAAGH—!!”
Max’s screams echoed through the chamber. The murky black mana pouring from Obsidian mercilessly crushed his face, warping and flattening it. Bones crunched. His nose collapsed. His jaw dislocated. His eyes began to roll back.
“GRAAAAAAGH!!!”
Then, in the next instant, the hazy expression on Max’s face twisted into something demonic. A guttural roar tore from his throat as he slowly, inch by inch, began pushing back against the crushing power of Obsidian.
-Vwoooooong! Vwoong! Vwoong!
The two forces clashed at a razor’s edge. The corner of Cairo’s mouth, which had remained expressionless throughout, curved ever so slightly.
Deciding that was enough, Cairo withdrew the demonic sword. The violently opposing powers vanished as if they had never existed.
“Haa… haa… haa…”
Max gasped for breath, his face grotesquely twisted from dislocated bones. Cairo approached and knelt on one knee, bringing himself to eye level. He placed a hand on his son’s head and cast a healing spell.
“Yes. That is the correct attitude. You are only useful when you struggle with the desperation of a man facing death.”
Cairo rose to his feet. The crushed nose and dislocated jaw had already returned to normal.
“I will give you one final chance.”
He released Obsidian, but instead of falling, the blade floated through the air and stopped directly in front of Max’s eyes.
“Tomorrow’s class under Sir Gracia will be an observation session. A large number of central administrators are expected to attend.”
“······.”
“Do not disgrace the name of Sigmund. This opportunity will not come again.”
With those final words, Cairo left the office.
The moment the door closed, Max snatched the floating Obsidian out of the air and stood. Tears streamed down his face, but his eyes now burned with venom and fierce determination. Waves of dark mana erupted outward in every direction.
Monday morning. Lecture Hall 11, where Professor Gracia taught, was unusually noisy. Central administrators holding various high offices had come to observe the class and had completely filled the rear seats.
“Hmm. So that’s the one they call Edgar Fix?”
“Yes, that’s correct.”
The majority of them were focused on Ed. They wanted to make contact with the commoner blacksmith who had created the insane invention known as Graham’s Northern Wind. Only then could they place orders for the air conditioners that would let them survive this endless summer.
“He doesn’t seem like an ordinary fellow at all.”
Even setting aside the air conditioner, Edgar Fix was a person of great interest. Rumors about him had already spread like wildfire throughout the central imperial court. A mere commoner who had somehow gained the patronage of both a grand mage and the imperial princess. Someone who had put on an impressive performance during the class evaluation matches and entered the ranked brackets. His feats had been so remarkable that he already possessed a growing fanbase of followers. The Imperial Gazette had even boosted its sales by running special articles on the weapons he had used.
-Creak.
The lecture hall door opened and Professor Gracia entered. Most of the officials in the back seats immediately rose and offered respectful bows.
“It has been a long time, Senior.”
“I trust you have been well, Senior?”
“It is an honor to see you again.”
“We greet Sword Master Gracia.”
Seven years ago, during the Great War, Gracia had served as a corps commander. Because of that distinguished position, nearly every official present felt obligated to show him proper respect. The only one who could disregard his achievements and authority was his old comrade and fellow former corps commander, Alerina.
“Hey there, Gracia. The uniform actually looks pretty good on you. You’ve turned into quite the proper gentleman.”
“…Alerina.”
“Is it fun playing teacher after abandoning me? It’s so boring without you around I might actually die of it.”
“…There are no wars to fight. Of course it’s boring. You’ve always been addicted to slaughter.”
Alerina shrugged at Gracia’s reply. She untied her messy red curls from their rough ponytail and shook them loose.
“Aww~ That’s all ancient history. I’m not the same person I used to be, you know? I’m thinking of settling down. Want to get married?”
“······.”
Gracia stared at her with the expression one might give a cockroach. That was all. He soon looked away, walked past her, and stepped onto the podium.
“Ah~ Rejected again,” Alerina muttered. She gave her adjutant a light smack on the shoulder and flashed a seductive smile. “Want to get married?”
“My apologies.”
“Ugh, at least pretend to think about it, you idiot.”
She laughed loudly and playfully slapped her subordinate’s cheek. The adjutant’s face showed a mix of awkwardness and barely suppressed laughter.
At that moment, Gracia’s firm voice rang out.
“Silence.”
The entire hall fell deathly quiet in an instant. Even Alerina, who had been messing with her subordinate, stopped and muttered, “Oh, he’s got presence.”
Gracia then began explaining the day’s schedule.
“As you all know, today is the practical sparring session. Each cadet must complete one offensive match and one defensive match. Both will take place in the large 2,000-pyeong dueling arenas.”
Offensive and defensive matches. An offensive match was when a cadet challenged an opponent of their own choosing. Since every cadet had already announced their training methods and preferred weapons in the previous class, they were expected to select opponents they believed they could defeat. Defensive matches worked in reverse—cadets had to face opponents who had chosen them.
Anticipating overlapping challenges, Gracia had already taken measures. He had evaluated the cadets’ skill levels and placed restrictions on who could challenge whom. Thanks to this, a complete bracket had been created that allowed every cadet to experience both an offensive and defensive match without duplication.
“We will now begin the sparring. The first match is Anna Sylvern’s offensive bout. Her opponent is Andy Branch.”
The practical duels began. The two named cadets stepped onto the podium and placed their hands on the teleportation magic tool. Their bodies instantly vanished and reappeared at opposite ends of the vast arena.
Though the dueling field was enormous, it was mostly open ground, allowing both students to clearly see each other’s positions.
Begin.
The two cadets charged toward each other. After a fierce exchange, the result was announced.
Andy Branch Wins
The defender had emerged victorious. This meant Anna, who had chosen the fight, would suffer a significant point deduction. She had judged Andy as someone she could beat, yet she had been the one defeated.
Max Sigmund’s offensive match. Opponent: Edgar Fix.
And here was another cadet who had bitten off far more than he could chew. Max Sigmund. Consumed by the desire to avenge his previous humiliating loss, he had chosen Ed without considering compatibility or relative strength.
This time, I’ll tear him to pieces.
Yet Max had a hidden ace. The Madness Potion he had secretly purchased on the black market. He had spent his entire fortune on it, and with this in his system, he was certain of victory.
Last time I couldn’t even use Obsidian properly.
He hadn’t even been allowed to swing his sword before losing. He had fallen for that bastard’s tricks and been defeated without displaying any of his true ability. This time would be completely different. The arena was almost entirely empty of terrain features, leaving no room for tricks. Once he drank the Madness Potion, his speed and power would be beyond anything that commoner could handle.
Having finished his calculations, Max pretended to drink water and downed the Madness Potion he had prepared in advance. Power surged through his entire body.
“Whoa~ That kid’s interesting. He’s straight-up cheating?”
However, he could not fool Alerina’s eyes. As a spellcaster with a special ocular ability, she could see changes that even Gracia could not perceive.
Yet even after witnessing it, she took no action. She simply shook with silent laughter, clearly entertained by the situation.
“Hey, adjutant. Doesn’t this look like it’s going to be insanely fun? We’ve got a crazy bastard chugging Madness Potion.”
“…Shouldn’t we stop him? If he loses his mind…”
“Why would we stop anything when our dear little Gracia is right here? Besides, his opponent is that commoner, right? The rising star of the first-year class.”
“Yes, that’s true, but… even so, Madness Potion is…”
“It’s fine, it’s fine. It’s not like he’ll actually die, right?”
Alerina leaned back in her chair with a grin. Her adjutant shot her a look one might give an unruly child, then sighed and turned his gaze forward.
Max and Ed’s figures were already being teleported into the arena.